


apex

by lovebeyondmeasure



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Extended Metaphors, F/F, Ficlet, POV Maria Hill, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 10:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16015895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebeyondmeasure/pseuds/lovebeyondmeasure
Summary: She is crimson and grey, black and red, a creature of shadows and secrets. She camouflages, becomes deer, allows herself to be hunted. She is the hunter, always. She has beautiful sharp fangs, and as she takes down her kill you wonder what it would be like to feel those teeth in your own neck.She would be the death of you, you know. And yet. And yet.





	apex

You are strong. This you know, in sinew and vein. You carry strength in the beating heart, cunning in the arching spine, vigour in the clenching fist.

But when you see her, blood-red teeth and bone-white skin, your skin ripples, gooseflesh and fear: you are not the apex predator here. You are as a rabbit before a wolf. Your every ounce of preservation says _run._

You do not blink. You smile back, false and sweet and hard as sugar. You will not flinch to this wolf-woman, will not bow your head. You will not be a running rabbit before her. 

There are your woods. You will have respect, earned or taken or stolen. 

She is crimson and grey, black and red, a creature of shadows and secrets. She camouflages, becomes deer, allows herself to be hunted. She is the hunter, always. She has beautiful sharp fangs, and as she takes down her kill you wonder what it would be like to feel those teeth in your own neck.

She would be the death of you, you know. And yet. And yet.

She is a weapon, they whisper. A wolf kept tame by the master’s throne, to tear down the kingdom’s enemies. But you know that she is wild, in her muscle, in her marrow, wild like you, wild like the wide-open sky. It is fools who dare to think otherwise.

She bats her eyes at you, long silky lashes and perfect soft coat, and you know this is her choice. This is a disguise she has chosen to wear. There are sayings about wolves and sheep. You keep them hidden in the softness of your throat.

Her teeth remain sharp. Her claws never dull. She is only soft to those who do not look for her keen edges. 

You are strong. You know this. And one day you know that she knows it too.

Everything in your world is layers and lies, half-truths and misdirection; you have lived in the shadows as much as anyone else. You look soft, female, pink and tender, and you allow the predators to see you as prey. You are not weak, but you are not a threat, they think with their foolish heads. You know how to take those off, the smoothest path for blade through bone.

But you can see her eyes, picking you apart, and you can see there the appreciation for your strength, your cunning, your vigour. You see her lick her sharp red teeth, and you turn away.

You cannot afford such things. She would eat you whole, and you would go willingly. There is no room for that here. There is no time for that now. 

If love is for children, passion is for youths, callow and aching for larger things. Those who have found larger things know there is no room in them for passion, not of that sort. 

The forest is large and deep, full of hidden spaces and untold secrets. You wonder if you might have one for your own some day. But the wolf has her own den, and her own secrets, wearing a man’s chain around her pretty neck. She is not for you. 

Apex predators should not be so beautiful, you think. And yet. And yet. 

She would tear you apart glorious, piece by piece, and you would allow her to, would beg her to, would feed her your own heart just to watch it stain her mouth. You would trace your name on her moonglow skin in your own blood, just to mark her as yours, for that fleeting moment.

But she is not yours. She goes from hand to hand, from land to land, and she is no one’s but her own. To claim ownership would be nothing but arrogance, and only men have such thoughts in their greedy hearts.

You are soft, female, pink and tender, blood and muscle and clenching fist. You would share. You would give. You would lay yourself open for the feasting.

You wonder how this came to be. These are your woods, and you are respected here. You have her respect, and it was earned. You have what you came for, and more besides.

You wonder what she wants. She will never say; such things she will not share with you. 

One morning, a man speaks nonsense-words as though they are profound truth, and you catch her eye. Her face conveys such incredulity, such exasperation, that you bite your lip to keep from smiling. Her eye follows your teeth, your tongue, as you seek for words.

She is beautiful, your wolf-woman, and you have her respect and more besides. She is copper-blood kisses and knife-sharp sighs, and you bare your throat as an offering. She will take, and take, and take. 

Apex predators always do.

**Author's Note:**

> [Reblog on tumblr.](http://lovebeyondmeasure.tumblr.com/post/178168171654/) Banner by me. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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